


Bullets and Arsenic

by MapleMeSyrup



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - Mobtale, Drama, I'll add in more tags as I go, Mystery, Other, Reader can be human or monster, Reader is gender neutral, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-10-20 11:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10661982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleMeSyrup/pseuds/MapleMeSyrup
Summary: Your parents used to be of high ranks in their mafia, but your parents found loopholes and managed to break up the organized crime once and for all and live a normal family life. Many years after your graduation from college you're still on the radar for information. That became more apparent when you hear quick footsteps behind you and you black out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a raffle winner on my tumblr! If you're interested in seeing more, visit [Skelltales.tumblr.com](http://skelltales.tumblr.com)

You’ve been trained in the art of self defense, drilled to be cunning, resourceful, and intelligent all your life, but you don’t know why. Sure, all those qualities lead to success, but your parents always made it seem crucial that you learn those skills, like it’s a matter of life and death. And for your life, it is. Your parents were professors that taught at a university that you graduated from a few years ago, and handled your education themselves. As a kid, your mother taught you to never, ever, go to Ebott City. Ever. At first, this seemed quite random; Ebott City was all the way on the other side of the country, why would you ever go there in the first place? 

But then, a few years after you graduated from college, both of your parents died at the same time. Heart attack and heartbreak, the coroner said, but for some reason, you know that’s not what happened. Your dad was the one who had a heart attack, now that you can believe, but your mother dying from heart break? That doesn’t sound like her at all. She was a strong, feisty woman, who took no shit, and although she loved your father, she wouldn’t have let his death destroy her like that. Something about that doesn’t add up. Even if they were strict on you, you loved your parents and you cannot let this rest, so you hop on a train and traveled to Ebott City, knowing that you’d find your answers there. 

The second you stepped off the train, you had a sudden feeling that someone, no everyone, was watching you. That feeling was strong enough to make you hesitate and consider going back, but the train is long gone. 

_ You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.  _ That mental track replays in your head like a broken record. 

You look around you to make sure that what you’re feeling is just nerves. Monsters and humans file in and out of the train station, going about their daily lives, not even taking notice to you, yet you can’t shake your paranoia. Well, you’ve come all this way, might as well get on with it. After wandering around the city for a few hours, you find a reasonably priced boarding house and booked it for a few weeks. You don’t plan on staying that long, but it’s always good to be prepared. 

Your room is smaller than you hoped, the large bed taking up most of the space, a wide, wooden dresser placed too close to the door, disabling it’s full swing. There is little room to walk around with a round coffee table and a two seater couch as obstacles. The message is loud and clear. 

Without bothering to unpack, you throw on your nicest coat and head to a diner that you found earlier while you were walking around. Wandering the streets of the cold, winter night in Ebott City could be described as lively at best. Sparkling, newly built skyscrapers tower over all the Ebott citizens with flashing lights of different colors. Beautiful, laughing people pass by you, their arms linked in with their partners as their expensive, perfume fills the street in cheers. The music rang joyfully throughout the entire city, the smooth and energetic jazz of the trumpet fueling the life as all responsibility of the mornings are tossed up in the air. 

Ducking into a local diner called Grillbys, you’re met with an embrace of warmth, like you could curl up by the fireplace and drink a cup of hot chocolate, while your parents read you a story from their collection. The entire establishment was covered in wooden panels, reminding you of a cozy cabin and the patreons scatter all over the restaurant, some dancing to the tune of the jazz band, the flapper girls swaying their skirts, and some gathered around a table, smoking heavy cigars as they gamble their money away. Hanging your coat on the coat rack, you cut straight to the counter where you’re greeted with a silent blue fire elemental, the shelves behind him stacked with different types of photographs of past customers. One even included the fire elemental shaking hands with a large, goat monster, which you recognize as the mayor of the city. 

As you take a seat on the stool, the fire elemental notices you for the first time and jumps back in shock, his white eyes widening behind his glasses, nearly dropping the glass cup he was wiping. 

You raise your brow, your nerves ringing in suspicion, “Is there something the matter, Mister? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“An exquisite creature like you, are you not one?” the flame regains his composure and chuckles softly, “What can I get for you, my dear?” 

“Just a cup of tea, please,” you order, only glancing at the menu. 

“One noodle juice coming right up,” the fire monster goes to work. 

You sigh, resting your head in your hands and try to figure out a plan. It’s been over twenty years since your parents moved away from Ebott, but there has to be someone that knew them right? Perhaps records in the library or city hall? For now, you’ll ask around, maybe that waiter knows something.

The fire elemental brings you your hot cup of tea and leans against the counter, “I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you new in town?  
Taking a sip of your drink, you relish in the warm sweetness, the heat melting away all your tensions and relaxing your muscles, “I’m here on business,” 

“Oh? What kind of business?” the waiter asks. 

“Well, I’m mostly just here for some information,” you shrug, not lying, but not telling the whole truth either. 

“You know, people talk a lot in my diner. I might be able to help you,” the flame elemental purrs. 

“Your diner? So you’re Grillby then?” you smirk, “Do you know these people?” 

You hand him a photograph of your parents taken a year before they died. Grillby’s blue flaming tips flicker to a bright purple then returns to its normal cyan. He stares at the photograph for a few moments, his expression unreadable, like he’s thinking of what to say next rather than trying to recognize your parents. You mentally note down his strange behavior to analyze later.

“Why are you looking for these people?” Grillby asks, handing you back the photograph. 

“I thought I was the one who is supposed to be asking questions,” you scowl.

The monster throws his hands up in defense, “No need to get feisty here. But no, I don’t know them.”

You stuff the photo back inside your coat and take a sip of your tea, “Thank you anyway.” 

Grillby nods and mutters a “enjoy your drink” then goes off to tend to his other guests. Well, that was unhelpful, but you did at least get a sense that the owner knows a bit more than he lets on. Why would he keep it from you? You don’t know. It only adds to your growing list of questions. As you finish the last drop of your drink, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“you’re in my seat, darling,” a deep, rough voice rumbles besides your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Annoyed, you turn around and stand face to face with a skeleton monster in a dapper black suit with a blue tie and worn down fedora, his eye sockets widening and his left eye flickering blue for only an instant. Geez, what’s with the people around here? 

“I got here first,” you cross your arms, “Besides I don’t see your name on it.”

“darling, i  _ always _ sit there. so scram or i’ll make ya,” the skeleton growls, his voice making your heart pound faster. 

“Whatever,” you toss your cash on the counter for Grillby and hop off your chair, “I was just leaving anyway,”

You purposely shove him with your shoulder and make your way toward the exit, his intense gaze burning in your back. You leave as quickly as you came. 


	2. Chapter 2

You push the frosty glass door open, the little bell chimed, announcing your arrival. Taking a deep breath, the smell of old books swirls around you, reminding you of the library you had as a child, when your parents would read you stories of exciting adventures, by the fireplace. Books of various sizes line the walls, with a few dusty novels scattered and stacked everywhere on the floor, while monsters and some humans read silently at creaky wooden desks, lit by dim lamps. **  
**

Only the receptionist, an elderly grey feathered bird monsters,  notices your arrival, pushing her small framed glasses up, and setting her own book down, “Can I help you with anything, dear?”

“Yes. Do you have any files on former citizens here?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the desk.

“Who is that you are looking for?” the receptionist asks.

You tell her your parent’s names,

The second the names escape your lips, silence fell over the already silent library; pages stopped turning, lights stop flickering, all eye trained on you. Chills run down your spine, as if you committed a blasphemy.

“Come with me,” the receptionist slides off her stool and leads you to the back of the library, into a small, janitor’s closet size room filled with meaningless yellow files, dimly lit with a single exposed light bulb.

Picking a file from a shelf and pulling a chair out for you, she hands you the file and leaves without another word. Letting the receptionist’s strange behavior roll off your back, you take a seat and open the file.

Empty. Absolutely empty.

You blink in confusion, flipping the file around to see if there were any kinds of tricks, then slamming the desk with your fists, turning around to snarl at the receptionist, but she was nowhere to be found. There has to be some kind of mistake, maybe the papers fell out of the file? You have to check. Sneaking back into the closet, you open the drawer you saw the receptionist open, and scan through the the folders, trying to find anything at all related to your parents. Your frustration grows as you find nothing, the light fixture above you cracking and dimming. This is a dead end, you’re not going to find anything here.

Grabbing your coat, you exit the library, noticing how quiet that it was before, like stale air and no one in sight. Shivers run down your spine and you quickly run to the door, only to find it locked, trapping you inside. You bang on the glass, screaming for someone to help you, but besides the light from the setting sun, no one glanced your way, or even notices you. Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you, and before you could even turn, you blacked out.

* * *

The pain in the back of your head wakes you up, throbbing like a heartbeat as your vision blurs and your stomach churns unpleasantly. You manage to lift up your head, despite the grogginess that nearly prevented you, and try to move, only to notice that both your wrists and ankles are binded to a wooden chair, tight enough to cut off blood circulation. Looking around, you found only gray walls and a single exposed light bulb above you, and a door in front of you.  

The doorknob turns and a familiar monster enters and approaches you. He steps into the light, the same skeleton monster that kicked you out of your seat at the diner, staring down at you coldly. You growl in defiance, struggling in the rope, but to no avail.

“yer the wranglers’ kid aren’t you. how stupid are you to come back here,” the skeleton sneers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“don’t lie to me! tell me where it is!” the monster balls up his fists and slams it across your face.

You yelp on impact, sitting out the blood as tears swell up in your eyes. You have no idea what’s going on or what this skeleton wants from you. All you can do is beg him to stop.

“seriously? I expected the wranglers’ kid to be tougher than this,” he strikes you one more time, your right eye swelling and puffing up purple as you sob.

“SANS STOP!” a voice commanded, saving you from your next attack, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!”

The skeleton drops his fists, and look of annoyance spreading across his face, “i’m interrogating the suspect, what does it look like i’m doing?”

“You are not interrogating, you are torturing!” another skeleton steps into the light.

This one is much taller than “Sans” with two vertical black stripes running in opposite directions at his eye sockets, his attire a clean and freshly pressed suit with a blue tie and a pair of glasses placed in his pocket. He moved with grace like a noble and untied your binds.

“Please forgive me, child, I had not expected my prodigy to attack you like that. Let me help you into the living quarters,” since you had no other choice, you let the skeleton help you up, “Sans, go fetch them some water.”

Sans grumbles but obeys. The new monster leads you into a warehouse stacked with old and forgotten boxes, a worn couch, and a table. Not much with the decor. You sit down and the new monster is immediately inspecting you, reassuring you that he’s a doctor and he knows what he’s doing.

“You do not have anything broken, but your face will bruise for a while. I shall get you some ice later to keep the swelling down.”

“Where am I? Who are you? What’s going on?!” your questions fire at him, but the tall monster doesn’t seem fazed.

Instead he waits patiently for you to get it all out of your system. Sans comes back and hands you your water. You drink it feverishly like you’ve been trapped in a desert, while the two pulls up a chair and sits across from you.

“I am sure that you have many questions, my child but-”

“enough of the niciesties, just tell us where the rs is,” Sans interrupts, impatiently tapping his foot.

“Sans, stop or I will ask you to leave,” the other skeleton snarls and regain his composure, “I apologize for that. I am Dr. Gaster, and this is my assistant, Sans. We are looking for something called the Resurrection Stone and we were hoping that you could help us.”

“Me?” you raise your brow, and shake your head, “What makes you think that I know anything about it?”

“Because your parents did. So ya must know something bout it kiddo,” says Sans.

“Uhh,” you rub your temples, “Look I’m sorry, I don’t. Even if I did, I don’t want anything to do with…whatever you two are doing. I just want to learn about my parents.”

“I can help you with that,” Dr. Gaster’s soothing voice calms you down, “I knew them for many years. We worked together as friends.”

His words shot you through your heart, as you realize that this is your chance, he’s the key to unlocking your family’s secret that got you parents killed. You have a feeling that you might not get another opportunity like this. Still, you had your pride.

“Even if I can help you, why would I? You kidnapped me then tortured me!”

Gaster glares at Sans, who’s sweating nervously, “Yes, I do apologize for that. Sans is still in the habit of..what do call it… hit first ask questions later. He will behave from now on. And I believe you can help, and if you do, I’ll tell you anything you want about your parents. Do we have a deal?”

You thought for a moment, glancing at the two skeletons before you. You can’t trust them, and you definitely don’t want to help them, but if this Dr. Gaster really did know your parents, perhaps you could milk him of all the information you can, then bail. This seems like your best shot for now.

“Deal.”

 


End file.
